


BED HEAD

by spicyshimmy



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-28
Updated: 2012-05-28
Packaged: 2017-11-06 05:00:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/414957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spicyshimmy/pseuds/spicyshimmy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shepard's never seen Kaidan's hair get all messy before. After their first night together, Kaidan wishes he'd held back on the revelation for a little while longer. Inspired by a comic by stonelions on tumblr; link to the artwork in the notes. <i>The only thing for it was to take stock of the situation—the meal they’d shared, and the lager, and the darkness. Kaidan getting Shepard down on the bed with a force that knocked the wind out of his lungs and made him see stars, only the second part was just a view of the real thing, and Shepard didn’t bother with looking up at that for too long. </i></p>
            </blockquote>





	BED HEAD

**Author's Note:**

> Stonelions' original (awesome) comic found [here](http://stonelions.tumblr.com/post/23787249453/is-it-just-me-that-imagines-kaidans-hair-is)! I couldn't help but absorb the headcanon as my own. And feel Kaidan's poofy-haired pain...

Shepard woke up first.

He knew he hadn’t been dreaming because it was too good to be a dream. And he didn’t spend any of his time imagining what could’ve been, what might’ve been, what should’ve been, either.

That kind of wishful thinking tended to be worse for a guy’s constitution than the lowest of his nightmares. Hope and what it wasn’t made you lose sight of what everybody else needed it to be.

Except there was a warm body pressed up against Shepard’s back. After only a second, he could feel steady breath skirting his shoulder and hair tickling the side of his neck and he couldn’t help it, the grin that came next—despite everything.

He felt like coughing the sleep out of his throat but he held back on it to keep the room quiet for Kaidan Alenko, who wasn’t awake yet. Hell, captain’s cabin was _always_ quiet, but this was different—for obvious reasons—with only the hum of the lights in the fish tank buzzing over the bubbles from the filtration system.

Experts said that kind of white noise was good for relaxing. Shepard didn’t know if it was true and he was the exception or what, but it’d never worked for him.

Maybe he just needed a bigger tank.

Or maybe he had already what he needed right there in bed next to him.

The only thing for it was to take stock of the situation—the meal they’d shared, and the lager, and the darkness. Kaidan getting Shepard down on the bed with a force that knocked the wind out of his lungs and made him see stars, only the second part was just a view of the real thing, and Shepard didn’t bother with looking up at that for too long.

He’d rather look up at Kaidan, anyway.

‘Can you even believe we’re doing this, Shepard?’ Kaidan asked, a hand on Shepard’s stomach, running a thumb along the hair below his navel.

Shepard couldn’t remember what, exactly, he’d said in reply. Something like _ask me that again tomorrow, Kaidan_ since his mouth was…pretty busy.

Well, Shepard had an answer ready for him now. No, he couldn’t believe it; yeah, he was damn well going to try. Good things happened sometimes, and the narrow opportunity they had for accepting it was a margin Shepard intended to live by.

It’d been a long time since he’d woken up first, implying there was anybody else to wake up after. Shepard preferred not to get into how long, not even with himself. It was enough that he didn’t have a standard protocol for dealing with it—holding back on clearing his throat was a starting line, not the end-game.

But if he kept lying there, he was going to go stir-crazy.

Shepard rubbed the tickle off his neck, fingers almost brushing Kaidan’s lips. He didn’t have to see him to know he was there or remember his touch, the weight of his body or the strength in his thighs.

The whole thing was clouding his head like conditions even Joker wouldn’t be crazy enough to fly through. _Get up, Shepard_ , he thought. _Get out of bed, find your clothes, offer Kaidan some breakfast—or free use of the private shower._

Give Shepard enough time, he always came up with a plan.

And worrying about making things awkward between two people when there was a reaper invasion threatening millions of them wasn’t even the wildest thing he’d done all week.

Some of Shepard’s muscles—not the usual ones—were sore as he eased out from under Kaidan’s arm, Kaidan’s thumb twitching once before it stilled. He made a few sounds like he was about to wake up and Shepard, hands braced on the edge of the mattress, looked over his shoulder the moment Kaidan stretched and opened his eyes.

‘Hey,’ Kaidan said, biting back on a yawn. Voice rasping, covers barely covering anything, a mark on his throat Shepard knew he’d been the one to leave there—but Shepard barely noticed all of that. ‘…Hey, Shepard.’

‘Your hair,’ Shepard replied. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen it that…way.’

Kaidan pushed his fingers through it. He was cute when he was tired, but that wasn’t the only time, and Shepard got this feeling like a cryo round unloading into his gut—just as intense but a lot more pleasant. Kaidan had that effect on him and the best part now was thinking maybe Shepard would have the chance to let him know it.

Someday.

‘Crap,’ Kaidan said. ‘It’s…not what it looks like.’

‘You mean curly?’ Shepard asked. ‘Or…bigger?’

Sweat. Exercise. A bunch of switching sides. It was part of the reason why Shepard kept his buzzed, only when he tried to picture Kaidan doing that, he was all eyebrow and it wasn’t pretty.

‘…Then I guess it’s exactly what it looks like.’ Kaidan messed with it for a few seconds, then gave up, sinking back into a pillow that was too hard to give him much leeway. ‘I was kind of hoping this wouldn’t be a first date revelation, honestly. Maybe seventh or eighth. Or never, if I could get away with it.’

‘I think I can live with it, Kaidan,’ Shepard said.

‘Yeah,’ Kaidan replied, ‘but can I?’

Some of it fell over his forehead, tangled, not damp anymore even though it had been during the night. Shepard hadn’t ever thought about what it looked like—what Kaidan looked like—out of uniform and if he had, he probably wouldn’t have gotten it right.

‘I didn’t say I didn’t like it, did I?’ Shepard said, with what felt like a lifetime of split-second decisions telling him not to hesitate. His hand hovered in the air between them anyway, wanting to touch it, almost not knowing how, until Kaidan closed his eyes and Shepard knew he got it: that they were talking about more than just hair.

‘It’s something, isn’t it?’ Kaidan asked.

‘It sure is,’ Shepard replied. 

**END**


End file.
